


Worth My Time

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, They're trying their best with not a lot to go on, reassurance, which is kind of par for the course with these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: Living with Jonathan Crane made Edward nervous.





	Worth My Time

**Author's Note:**

> I was kind of riding off the high from the nice comments on the other fic, so I cranked this out after seeing some people mention they wanted to see these two being supportive of each other. I hope it doesn't disappoint. This can also be found on my blog, charlimanderdragon.tumblr.com I have nothing against people who write them differently or have them being harsh to each other. Both are great! This is just what I wanted to write tonight.

Living with Jonathan Crane made Edward nervous.

He hated that it did. Jon hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t said anything, hadn’t given Edward any cause to be nervous or fearful around him in the months they’d lived together. That was what freaked him out. Edward grated on people's nerves. He was loud, talked too much and too quickly, had no sense of what was insensitive to say, and changed subjects often enough to make people dizzy. He would compulsively paint on the walls and then just as frantically scrub them clean. He’d get irritable for no reason like a particularly grouchy cat. He wasn’t an easy person to live with. He was infuriating and he knew it.

But did Jonathan?

Jon hadn’t snapped. Not once. He wasn’t a man who had much patience with anyone else, but for Edward he seemed to have an endless supply. Or, that wasn’t right. Jonathan absolutely had the capacity for patience. He just didn’t bother exercising it for most people. Still, he never raised his voice. He never insulted Edward or turned his clear insecurities against him. He never dosed him just to shut him up or for research or tried to exploit his fears. If anything, he’d been… supportive. It scared Edward. It made him worry that there was another game being played that he somehow wasn’t aware of, though of course that was impossible. He never missed anything. If there was something going on, he’d know.

But it didn’t make any sense, otherwise! Jonathan didn’t even ignore him! Sometimes he got caught up in his work, sure, but it seemed like he was being… mindful of Edward. Of the way he got anxious. If Jon didn’t pay attention for too long, Edward would worry he wasn’t good enough. He’d start to worry Jon hated him, that he’d done something wrong. Edward admitted that small acknowledgements of his existence may not have seemed like much, but it still baffled him that Jon seemed to go out of his way to keep Edward from spiralling.

Sometimes, Edward had nightmares. He knew it must be annoying. Jonathan was a light sleeper and barely managed to get any rest at all even without Edward waking him up. That didn’t seem to deter him from wrapping himself around Edward at night, encircling him in his ridiculously long limbs and keeping him close. Edward was fine most nights, but occasionally he’d wake up with his cheeks wet and his chest tight. His breathing would be quick and shallow despite attempts to regulate it. He always expected Jon to get annoyed. To kick him out of bed or just climb out himself. At the very least, he expected Jon to roll over to his own side of the bed, or maybe even pull out a notebook and record Edward’s fearful reactions.

Instead, as Edward’s senses returned to him from the grip of terror, he’d feel gentle fingers running through his hair or along his back. Jon would hum quietly in that low voice, and Edward would find the tension leaving him. He’d slump against the taller man, bury his face against his shoulder, and Jon would press a kiss to the top of his head. It must have been just… scripted actions, right? Edward thought it must have been. Someone as reserved as Jon, as exhausted as those night’s must have left him, there was no way that comfort came naturally to him. It must have just been an attempt to placate Edward. It must have been an act.

But why would he bother? Did he want something? What did he want that Edward wouldn’t willingly give? Sure, Edward was a selfish guy, but he also craved approval and they both knew it. If Jonathan wanted something, it wouldn’t be hard to twist Edward into doing it for him. But he didn’t seem to be doing that. He seemed to want to… help. Edward didn’t make it easy.

Edward hated being seen when he was a mess. He didn’t want anyone around during panic attacks or episodes. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he had flaws, and despite all evidence to the contrary he worried that expressing vulnerability around Jon would just provoke the Scarecrow. As brilliant as the Scarecrow was and as much as Edward loved to see him in action, he wasn’t very interested in being the target. Still, when he would exit whatever room he’d locked himself in to hide, he’d find hot chocolate waiting in the kitchen. Somehow it was always hot, as if Jon knew how long his episodes would last.

“We need to talk.” Edward always had a flair for the dramatic, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. Jonathan looked up from where he was hunched over some papers on his desk, looking at Edward over his reading glasses. He frowned, looked back down at the paper as if considering whether he could afford to leave it. Then he put the pencil down and straightened up. His back cracked audibly in multiple places as he sat back and stretched. The woes of being tall. Then he just… looked at Edward expectantly. Jon didn’t believe in wasting words.

Edward lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame and chewing the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know how to bring the issue up properly, so to stall he walked slowly towards the desk so he could sit on it. There was always only ever one part of Jon’s desk left clear of papers, because he knew Ed would sit there whether there was anything on it or not. That just brought Ed back to the issue.

“... Are we… okay?” He tried, but Jon just raised an eyebrow in question. “I mean, are you… happy with… this.” He gestured vaguely between them, and though Jon’s expression remained the same his eyes shone with mild amusement.

“I’m not exactly what one would call a ‘happy person,’ Edward.” He admitted blandly.

“I’m not inquiring on your mental health, Jonathan. I know about that already.” Edward waved him off, trying not to get too short with him. “I mean does this… Do I make it… worse?” Where had his words gone? He was usually so eloquent. He groaned in frustration and rubbed tiredly at his eyes with one hand.

“No. The companionship is good for me.” Jon paused, seeming to rethink that statement. “You’re good for me.”

“How.” Ed lowered his hand and levelled Jonathan with an incredulous look. “How could I possibly be good for you?” At this, Jonathan frowned and folded his hands on his desk.

“I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean,” He started, hopping off the desk, driven by a sudden restless energy. “I’m a handful. I’m infuriating. I poke and prod and provoke.” He paced through the office much like he did in his own while deep in thought. “You never snap. You never yell. You never get angry-”

“Yes, I do.” Jonathan interrupted, bringing Edward up short and stopping him in his tracks, hands hovering frozen where he’d been gesturing wildly.

“...What?”

“I get angry.” Jonathan admitted, seeming unbothered. “Not often, but I do. I get annoyed. I get exasperated. I enjoy your talking, but occasionally when you work yourself into a hissy you say nasty things just for the sake of being nasty. You hide yourself away when you’re distressed rather than letting me help. But I’ve had to deal with a lot of shit from a lot of people in my life, and believe me you are nowhere near the worst. And Edward…” He sighed, looking almost pitying. “Sometimes I’m just in a bad mood. It happens.”

There was a long moment of silence, wherein Edward just stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“You’re confused,” Jon pointed out unnecessarily. “Because I don’t yell at you. I don’t insult you. I don’t hit you or dose you with fear toxin or just leave you. I don’t react the way you have been conditioned to believe people should act around you. Edward,” Jon stood, moved around the desk to stand in front of the confused genius, placing his hands on his shoulders. “I’m much older than you. I’ve had time to learn to control myself, and I recognize that lashing out at you would only hurt you.”

“That’s the whole point of lashing out at me.” Edward pointed out, not looking at Jon until the latter put a hand on his face, tilting his head to make Edward look at him.

“Edward.” Jonathan spoke with absolute seriousness, expression and tone leaving no doubt he meant what he was about to say. “I do not want to hurt you. I recognize that your life experience has led you to find that hard to believe, but it’s true. People get angry sometimes, and people annoy or upset each other plenty, but having an emotion doesn’t mean you have to act on it. When I feel angry around you, I dissect why. I break down the situation that led to that feeling, I decide what the best solution is.”

“But you seem to… go out of your way for me.” Ed mumbled almost sheepishly, and it was Jonathan’s turn to look confused. His brow furrowed as he ran his hand back through Edward’s hair. A gentle touch went a long way with Edward and Jon knew that well.

“How do you mean?” He sincerely had no idea.

“You… You make me hot chocolate, when I’m upset. You stay with me when I have nightmares. You replace my paint when I’m too… inside my own head to do so myself. You make time to acknowledge my existence even if you’re busy…” He trailed off, realizing after saying it out loud that it really didn’t seem like much. But it was. For him, it was. It was everything. Jonathan was still frowning.

“It doesn’t take much to acknowledge your existence, Edward, and why would I want to just… leave you to being upset? That does nothing for either of us.”

“You just… you’re… not a very warm person. I thought maybe…” Edward didn’t want to insult him. He really didn’t. Thankfully, Jon just scoffed.

“What, that I was forcing myself to be a decent human being just to placate you?” He guessed, and Edward shrugged.

“Kind of. Or that I was somehow manipulating you.” Ed grimaced, looking away again.

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, Edward. You know that.”

“I know, but what I can’t reason out is why you would want to do all of that for me!” Edward’s eyes snapped back to Jon’s, a strange sort of desperation in them. The need to understand. He couldn’t not know something, and this just didn’t make sense to him at all. He hated when things didn’t make sense. “Why would you bother? Why are you even trying to talk to me about this as if it’s worth your time?”

“Edward,” Jon’s hands went to both sides of Edward’s head, looking him directly in the eyes. “You are worth my time.”

Edward opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. Mostly because he was choked up. Jonathan sighed, slid one of his hands to Edward’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re allowed to talk to me about these feelings more often, you know. I am a trained psychiatrist.” Jon muttered close to Edward’s ear as he hugged him. Edward clung, though he’d never admit he was clinging, just as he’d never admit that he was dangerously close to crying.

\---

It was late. Edward had long since gone to bed, exhausted from an emotionally volatile day, but Jon was still awake. Still sat at his desk. Thinking. He couldn’t help but wonder, were all of Edward’s doubts due to how he’d been treated in the past? Or were some due to Jon’s own behavior? Edward had said himself that Jonathan wasn’t a warm person, and Jon knew that well. He’d never treated anyone the way he treated Edward. He’d never been interested in doing so. But he wanted to make Edward happy. He wanted him to smile.

They both knew what it was like to not be wanted. They knew what it was like to be treated like dirt. They both knew what it was like to want to be enough, to try to be enough, but to never quite get there. They both knew abuse, they both knew neglect, they both knew loneliness. They understood each other and enjoyed each other's company. Why shouldn’t they make it easier for each other?

There were key variables Edward wasn’t considering, Jon knew. He wasn’t considering them because he didn’t think they counted. Edward feared abandonment, that was obvious. He felt he had to earn the right to have someone care about him. He doted on Jon often, in ways that had almost made Jon uncomfortable at first due to how foreign it was to him. He’d never had someone play with his hair before. He’d never had someone cuddle him or hold his hand or kiss his fingers. He’d never had someone tell him his eyes were apparently ‘pretty.’ He’d never had someone take such an active interest in his work, though he suspected part of that was Edward simply enjoying Jon’s enthusiasm.

Edward would buy him first editions of favorite books, expensive and hard to obtain chemicals. He’d leave sticky notes on Jon’s desk with ideas for better toxin dispersal methods or other useful things. Edward trusted him enough to sleep next to him. It wasn’t as if Jon was giving all of himself for nothing. He was just… being considerate to a partner who was also considerate to him. If it was unthinkable that he would make Edward a hot drink after a panic attack, then was it not also unthinkable that Edward would allow Jon’s ridiculously bony, uncomfortable body to engulf him every night? Was it not also unthinkable that Edward would just… sit with him quietly during an off day? Was it not also unthinkable that Edward would let Jon lay his head on his lap, play with his hair and ramble away when Jon asked for a distraction?

He should have brought up those points before. Why was saying words out loud such a hassle? Exhausted, he sighed and finally got up from his desk. Thinking about all of this was wearing him out, and he pitied Edward for having been fretting about it likely since the beginning. Quietly as he could, he changed into sleeping clothes and slid into bed beside Edward, immediately moving towards him and taking him in his arms. Jon was so cold and sharp, but Edward was soft and ran like a furnace. Ed made a small sound in his sleep and shifted into the embrace, craving the contact even while unconscious.

Ed was so unused to people being kind to him that he could hardly fathom having a functional relationship. Jonathan had already been determined not to become an abuser in the one relationship he’d allowed himself to have, but that was a low bar. He raised it, after that conversation. He knew he’d never be the most emotionally available or the most verbally affectionate person, but Edward had known that going in. That didn’t mean he couldn’t do his best to make Edward happy, since Edward seemed to try as best he knew how to do the same.


End file.
